*forgive me this is a bit wordy and excessively long*
No sooner had I finished reading
In Nigeria, you're either somebody or nobody- by Adaobi Nwaubani did my current favorite blogger post this
little gem , titled "Where in the world are you not Somebody or Nobody? Are you ever just a body?" Being the genius that I am, I had an "AH HA!" moment. Certainly the article I had just read must have inspired this title. You should try having "AH HA!" moments. Tis quite the glorious feeling.
As I read, I realized that what we have here is a classic case of what Chimamanda Adichie calls "
The Danger of The Single Story". Click on the link and watch the video if you haven't. It is quite enlightening.
Adaobi is a pretty genius writer. No her writing is not the strongest nor is it the wittiest. Actually while reading her book there were a few sentences I was tempted to cross out and rewrite but that's because I judge everyone but myself harshly, however she has an amazing understanding of the inner workings of certain parts of Nigeria and writes in such a way that you completely get what it's like to be in a certain place at a certain time. While reading, I Do Not Come To You By Chance, I felt as though I fully understood what it was to be the Opara (first son) in an Igbo household and the pressure to provide for family. I also related to being related (see what I did there?) to an Uncle Boniface (Cashdaddy) because if you're Nigerian chances are that you have one of these. If you haven't read it, you should, it's entertaining. Her writing makes her seem young, jaded and willing to poison the mouse despite knowing the owl will eat the poisoned mouse and die as well. It is quite refreshing.
Afam's writing is excellent to me because it is wordy, flowery and rambles. It is also clear that he proofreads, something I almost deliberately never do. He has no book for me to dissect but read the blog. It's worth it. He would definitely not poison the mouse, he lacks that ruthlessness and the ability to see the world only in black and white. This is a good thing as much as it is bad.
Adaobi's story is one of overbearing parents and untrustworthy maids who wear piles of underwear (why does one steal underwear? Things that those of us not besieged with poverty will never understand) and are forever asking for this that and the other. Of people who lose all respect for you when you show them some and of men for whom "Do you know who I am?!" should be recorded on a portable stereo so they do not lose their voices yelling it every five minutes. That is her story.
As for Afam's story, it is filled with hardworking parents who literally run a small scale economy. 10 staff members (to be honest this boggled my mind. It's more that most small companies have!) PArents who give their support staff the chance to be educated if they choose. Living in a country where you get decent service if you are a nobody and superior service if you are a somebody. His story is one where handwork and opportunity give you the chance to be somebody. That is his story.
My story is a combination of both. My parents also worked hard from a tiny one bedroom off Akerele St, Surulere to move up in life to their current home in VGC. We have outside staff but not inside staff. THe idea of inside staff makes me shiver (maids, cook, nannies) because while we had the occasional maid when we were younger my parents didn't like the idea and by the time I turned 10 my mother put her foot down. No more maids. The kids can clean, thanks mum! Despite this we still have a security guy, a pool guy, a gardener, a washman and three drivers. That's 8 staff members. Why exactly was my mind boggled by Afam's 10? Mostly because I don't see our staff members as being connected to me in anyway. I do my own laundry, drive myself, answer the door for my guests and when I do need them to do something (like clean my forever messy car) I pay them out of my pocket. But mostly I just ignore them, they have no consequence to me. If they all disappeared tomorrow I would be mildly annoyed that the pool was dirty but then I'd simply clean it myself. However due to my inquisitive nature and lack of the ability to shut up I do have conversations with them where I inquire about their families their backgrounds and whatnots.
And the one thing these conversations have cemented in my head is that there are Somebodies, there are Nobodies and then there are Bodies.
See when I lived in Canada I was a "body", I had my little job that paid most of my bills, took care of my daughter and made sure I didn't starve to death. I voted when elections came around, paid my taxes and lived a nice peaceful existence. I was harassed occasionally by bill collectors due to my irritating habit of forgetting to pay bills but as I wasn't Somebody no one rushed to put my name is the papers with the big red words "CHEAPO" underneath. If I died suddenly, I would make the papers, somewhere on page 12, below the fold. In Canada Stephen Harper is Somebody. He is well known, as is fitting of the Prime Minister, he is a person of consequence. If he dies today he would make the papers, Front page news, above the fold. The homeless man I occasionally give a dollar too on my way to my car, he's a nobody. He dies today and no one but other nobodies care or notice even. Maybe a small independent paper might carry the story. Someone might take up the cry about the lack of proper care for the homeless and his dead image (a tasteful one though) might become the banner for that. Regardless he is still dead and a nobody.
In Nigeria, by association with my parents I am a Somebody. This is not to say that I have the power to do what they do or that I have earned the recognition I get but the fact remains I am a Somebody and so is Afam and so is Adaobi and so are the thousands of other children lucky enough to have been born into money or into families where the parents worked their way into money. As Adaobi stated:
"The average Nigerian’s best hope for dignified treatment is to acquire the right props. Flashy cars. Praise singers. Elite group membership. British or American accent. Armed escort. These ensure that you will get efficient service at banks and hospitals. If the props prove insufficient, a properly bellowed “Do you know who I am?” could very well do the trick."
I have never needed to walk into a room and yell "Do you know who I am?!" but if I did and got the chance to tell who I was someone in there would accord me respect. Mostly it shows on me that I am the child of somebody, ergo I am somebody. I speak with a Canadian accent (often mistaken for american). I carry my head up high and walk into restaurants expecting service. The fact that I walk into restaurants alone in Nigeria cements this fact. If I die tomorrow, for any reason murder, diabetes, choking on a fly while attempting to board a boat in an airplane hangar, I will make the front page, above the fold and Linda Ikeji and all other popular blogs. There will be tributes and there will be people I never spoke to in life who will help my parents lament my loss. I have seen this play out too often when someone in my age group dies and because they are Somebodies the bodies and nobodies of the world come out to share the grief their parents feel. The Somebodies in Nigeria are the loudest and most known as Somebodies usually are but they are few, so few that it is not surprising that at every event I go to from art exhibition to book launch to business dinner, it is the same crowd I see over and over and over again. People say Lagos is small. With 18 million people how can Lagos be small??? It is small because our circles of Somebodies and Somebodies' children make up less than 1% of Lagos.
There are Bodies in Nigeria this is true but they are few and far between, perhaps the teller at the bank, the No-level* worker at a Brewery company. Perhaps these Bodies make up 25% of the population of Lagos. I truly believe 25% is high. It's probably more like 17%.
Then there are Nobodies. From your random shop girls, despite having a job they are still nobodies, to the beggar on the street who sleeps under the bridge at night, Lagos is filled with Nobodies. Every where you look, you glance past Nobodies until your eyes hit the Somebody you were looking for. Your waiter in a restaurant is a Nobody. I never thought about waiters till one night I was leaving Lagoon restaurant pretty late. My date and I practically helped them sweep the floor. On our way out I noticed men putting out mats on the stairs and outside the gate. One of them was the man who served us. I immediately stopped and asked him why he was preparing to sleep outside the restaurant he works at. His first response was that a lot of the waiters sleep there overnight as it is late and they didn't want to travel home late. See most of them live in the less desirable parts of Lagos, deep in the crevices of Ajah, areas with names like Ajangbadi and Okokomaiko. If you live in Ikorodu that's a two hour public transport journey that no sane person will attempt to undertake at 2am. The buses themselves, not the drivers, would mock you. Laughing loudly through their exhaust pipes held on with wires and the gaping hole in their windshields. Because I clearly have a death wish, I generously offered to give our waiter a ride home as I did not want him to sleep on the floor only to hear "Me I don't sleep here because my house is far o. I no even get house sef. I stay here and baff in the bathroom then I go work." You may wonder why he is homeless when he has a job? Turns out his salary is 15K a month. We had just spent about 25K on food and drinks for one night and the guy serving us our 2500 cocktails makes 15K a month. That guy in Nigeria is a nobody. He is part of the Nobodies that make up 75% of the population of Lagos that I constantly overlook while my eyes search for the Somebody in the room.
See in North America and Europe and other "westernized" countries, you can simply be a Body and exist from day 1 till day 0 of your life. You will die and make the paper, page 12 below the fold. These are choices that you have because there are systems set up to help you be a body, the welfare estate, workplace equity laws and the like. Most people In North are simply Bodies. When Afam walks into a restaurant in London he is not a Nobody, he is a Body.
In Nigerian you truly are either a Somebody or a Nobody, because Bodies are few and far between. And this is what needs to change. We need more Bodies and less Nobodies.
